


ties that bind, ties that fray

by orphan_account



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Misunderstandings, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-07-31 02:27:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20107660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He's Auston's fucking soulmate, jesus christ. Fucking Auston, matching him. He's giddy and shaking, just slightly, and Auston reaches for him, soothing, like he's gentling a horse. One hand holding his and the other holding his jaw, so fucking softly.He looks up at him, smiling hard enough his eyes are crinkling, and then he -He draws back.It all falls away in a blink, because Auston stares at him levelly, expression suddenly neutral, and says "you know this isn't real, right?"





	1. a thread to snap

The thing is, Mitch knows that it's a mistake. He knows that soulmarks are tricky things, and that some come and go, like you matched perfectly for a while, but circumstances change, rarely, some appear on longtime best friends, some pop up as a tribute to someone you've lost.

Sometimes they appear because you're so deep in unrequited love with someone that a homage to them appears on your flesh.

Sometimes they get a red line through them or they disappear altogether.

He doesn't know which he'd prefer to happen to the one he has for Auston. It's an image (a delicately done cacti, in bloom under a single star), so probably the latter. For now he just has to keep it under wraps that he has it. If it disappears at all.

God, he _hopes_ it disappears.

-

He dreams of Auston finding out maybe a couple of times a week. Most of the time he forgets all but the fuzziest details because he's like, so shitty at remembering dreams, but this one -

Yeah, this one not so much.

In it, they're sprawled on the couch, because Auston has no concept of personal space and Mitch has no problem exploiting that. It makes him sleepy and happy and - really fucking stupid. He gets too warm but he doesn't want to move from leaning into the arm Auston has stretched out against the back of the sofa, so he takes his sweater off, completely missing how it lifts his tee up with it, just a little.

Just enough.

"Whoa, when did you get that?" Auston says, and Mitch feels his heart do a fucking backflip in his chest.

"What?" He replies stupidly, buying time. Auston can only have seen it for a split second. Maybe he can rectify this.

"Your mark. I didn't think you had one yet. When did it happen?"

"Uh." He says, and Auston is pushing his t shirt up a little to look closer before Mitch can jump back.

"Cute." He says initially, and Mitch laughs, stilted. "Do you know what it means?"

"It's just a bunch of plants, it's no big deal."

"Bunch of plants my ass, you're in love."

"Don't I know it." Dream Mitch says before he can stop himself.

Auston pauses roasting him.

"Wait, you _know_ them?"

Mitch feels the colour drain from his face.

"I - I mean. I - kinda."

"So what does it mean?"

Auston squints at the ink again, tracing the edge of something, the mountain in the background, the edge of a succulent - something, and Mitch gets blindsided by the visceral wave of _feeling_ he gets from it. It's like he's been hooked up to the electric grid.

That's when the other shoe drops.

"_Oh_." Auston murmurs, and the fabric falls from where he'd held it aside.

"Matts, it's not - They're not always in love ones, right? Sometimes they're for friends, lifelong friends, sometimes - I -"

He knows he's babbling because he's scared. Auston's face is scarily blank.

"Those are pretty uncommon though." He says. "I'm not stupid, we learnt all this in school - ones between friends are strong but incredibly rare. The teacher, she even gave us stats, 1 in 200,000, like -"

He takes a breath, crease between his brows, still blank but determined.

"Still, it _could_ be -"

Auston shakes his head, decisive.

"No. If that was the case I'd have something too, something corresponding. Mine has nothing to do with that, which means that-"

Mitch flinches preemptively, offers a watery smile.

"You don't have to say it. I know." He goes, because he realises now, all this time, he could have just asked what Auston's mark was, if he had one at all yet. He didn't have to admit anything.

But here they are.

Auston is still touching him, but his hands have stilled. He looks...Shocked and a put out and yeah, that's. Not really looking good.

"I'm sorry -" He says, but it's wary. He sounds fucking wary and his expression is shuttered and -

And he wakes up.

So yeah, he's not going to bring it up. He's not going to ask Auston about his. He's not going to talk about soulmates altogether. He's going to get one of those patches to cover it and he's gonna get over it.

The sinking feeling in his stomach is kinda really ruining his mood, but he's got a plan at least.

-

The only problem is, Auston is tactile. Maybe he got that from Mitch, which is a cruel irony. He keeps touching him in cellies, when they're playing a truly terrible round of fortnite and he has his arm spread along the back of the sofa, when he they go out for lunch and -

Mitch knows that at best it's force of habit. At worst, it's Auston humoring him, but he tries not to think about that.

He knows that it's just that - brief, sociable touches. They aren't anything special. They don't mean anything.

Even knowing all that, it doesn't get any easier, so he starts trying to limit how touchy he is in return.

He stiffens up or ducks away when Auston hugs him now, stops initiating them, because hugs are for cellys, or offering congratulations on something. He shouldn't be forcing them so frequently.

Sitting bang next to each other on the couch is only okay if there's no space for him to sit separately. He shouldn't be taking advantage of what isn't his anyway.

When they fly or take the coach, the arm rest stays down, and if he falls asleep on Auston's shoulder he makes sure to say he's sorry, because he _is_. He doesn't want Auston to even get an inkling.

Inviting him over after every fucking practice is stupid and clingy. _"I know we just spent most of the day together but I don't want to part yet". "Let's grab lunch". "Are you staying the night?"._ Fucking hell.

It isn't fair to Auston to keep getting so physically close to him when he isn't in possession of all the facts and if he were - yeah, no. Mitch isn't gonna think about that either. It's not like Auston will miss it, and it prevents him being in an awkward position.

It's _fine_.

-

Sometimes, he really fucking misses it.

He remembers how sometimes when they veg out and watch movies at his place he'd occasionally get so relaxed from the easy affection that he'd fall asleep on Auston, and Auston wouldn't shove him away. He'd just adapt to it. Move his arm so it rested around Mitch's side or let him slowly sink onto his chest, just letting him be close.

He misses that most when he puts his plan into action and there's a couple of feet between them. He wants to hang on, to cling, to feel Auston's warmth under his cheek. He fucking _longs_ for it, but that doesn't mean he should have it. It's just hard.

(When he gets really tempted he thinks about how Auston would react of Mitch was stupid enough to lay himself bare. He thinks of the how it'd make Auston feel, and how he'd get guilty that he'd led Mitch on or some other bullshit. It'd be so fucking selfish of him to say anything, and he'd do well to remember that.)

-

A big drawback to all of this is that when Auston does touch him, he's nearly _floored_ by it.

He scores, and and Auston barrels into him, nearly squashing him flat to the boards, and there's a moment where his gloved hand brushes where his pads don't quite cover the mark, and put it this way, it's a good job he's able to lean back against the glass just to keep his balance.

His mind wanders, sometimes. He thinks of Auston touching it with bare hands against his bare skin, fingers tracing all the lines. Maybe he's press his lips to it, holding him by the forearms.

He starts getting frustrated. He wants it gone. He wants it to disappear so that he's not so fucking afraid.

-

His next dream isn't so nice.

This time Auston freaks out because Mitch had been telling him all day he needed to speak to him and then sat him down on the couch and tried to get the words out only -

He'd frozen.

Auston had looked like he was 2 seconds away from freaking out, and when Mitch opened his mouth to say something Auston had beat him to it.

"Are you sick?"

He was practically wringing his hands.

"No! God, no. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you think that."

He breathes a sigh of relief.

"I got a mark." Mitch says, apparently going for broke.

Auston's eyebrows shoot up, and he's grinning.

"For real? Congrats, man! Do you k-"

"-and I think it's for you."

Mitch can't control how he's beaming. He's been wanting to tell him all day and felt like it was written across his forehead (or side in this case, ha) and now it's out there a-

"What."

Mitch freezes, because this - he doesn't get it, this is - he -

He doesn't understand, because Auston's voice is completely, chillingly _flat_.

"I said I -" He gulps, and can't get the rest out when he looks up, because Auston has gone from relieved to looking like he's the ill one. "Auston I thought - I could have sworn, I'm. I'm sorry -I was. I was sure -"

He cuts him off.

"Why the fuck would I have a mark for you?" He asks. He's not shouting, he just sounds bewildered, like he can see their friendship in a new light and doesn't like it.

Mitch feels the bottom drop out of his stomach. He wants to backtrack.

"I - "

"Why?"

Mitch can't look at him. He can feel Auston's eyes on him but he can't look back.

"Please don't make me answer that." He says, tears pricking at his eyes. _Don't fucking cry,_ he thinks. _You'll look pathetic._

"Did you seriously think that-"

"_Please_, I was just - I got it wrong, okay? I got it wrong and -"

"I just want to know what I did to lea8d you on -"

"You didn't!" He says quickly, because he doesn't want Auston to feel bad. This is his problem and his alone. "It's just. Y'know how sometimes you'll look at me or hold me or we'll spend the day together and nap by each other. And - I guess I thought that was - just. I thought that was something."

When he dares look up Auston's face is unreadable. His expression is so shuttered it makes his media face look open.

"How could you think- " are the next words out of his mouth and -

He wakes up.

It's still so early that the morning that it's not even fully light.  
  
He's wondering why he's so warm and uncomfortable for a few bleary seconds, then he realises. Auston stayed over. The last thing he remembers is watching a rerun of some awful reality show and barely being able to keep his eyes open, laughing at Auston's dry commentary of the contestants.

Apparently that's where they both fell asleep. Together. In Mitch's bed.

Auston has his arm slung over Mitch's waist and his shirt is bunched up and -

Cold dread trickles through him. His mark is fully on show. He doesn't know for how long or if Auston saw it, but his fingers are nearly brushing it.

Suddenly it's difficult to breathe, because this is too much. It's a soft agony to know what this feels like now, how Auston is a cuddler and what his fingers look like spread gentle over his ribs.

He wants to not remember any of this, but it feels seared into his memory already.

Mitch is going to have to tell him not to sleep in his bed, because god forbid it happen again. It's not something that should happen anyway, but with his mark as it is - it's just too risky.

-

Mitch hints at him over breakfast that he has a perfectly good bed at home and - Auston freezes for a full second as he's prodding at the coffee machine.

He doesn't look Mitch in the eye when he says "okay", softly.

He doesn't lean in to hug him goodbye anymore either. Small victories.

-

When Mitch showers after he leaves to get ready for practice, he notices one of the cacti has gained another flower, in colour this time.

-

There are places you can go that get rid of the marks for good. Hideously expensive, naturally, but they take it away.

It's something of a taboo. It's not supposed to happen because everyone knows that platonic or romantic, soulmarks are meant to be part of you.

Some people that have had them removed get strange side effects. He remembers some kindly old lady on the news, explaining that she'd heard her soulmate's heartbreak and longing for 60 years now, but would never be able to feel it enough to locate her. She'd had it taken away because society wasn't kind to women like her, and her whole life long she'd regretted it.

It wouldn't be as bad for him, he figures. He knows who his soulmate is, knows he's unmatched. It's not even an inpatient treatment - 2 hours, and you're ready to leave again, to start over. The benefits outweigh the risks.

Mitch has 3 tabs open on it.

He's almost pressing the confirm appointment button when a little bit of doubt strikes him. _What if,_ he thinks. What if Auston has a matching mark but it's just really small, somewhere secret. Maybe he's been keeping his corresponding one secret too, trying to find a good time to bring it up. Maybe that's what he thinks about when they fall asleep together, touching in just enough places.

Then he thinks of how picturing them together feels so contrived. How he can't imagine Auston smiling at him in a romantic sort of way or laying his hands on him or - anything. Anything at all.

One time he dreams that Auston is spooning him and kissing his way from behind his ear to his mouth in ticklish pecks, laughing. He'd told Mitch about how he had a mark too, nervous, panicky. Then he'd shown it. It had been a match.

And Mitch had just. Thrown himself at Auston, overjoyed. Tearful and giggling all at once. So, so, happy.

He's Auston's fucking soulmate, jesus christ. Fucking Auston, matching him. He's giddy and shaking, just slightly, and Auston reaches for him, soothing, like he's gentling a horse. One hand holding his and the other holding his jaw, so fucking softly.

He looks up at him, smiling hard enough his eyes are crinkling, and then he -

He draws back.

It all falls away in a blink, because Auston stares at him levelly, expression suddenly neutral, and says "you know this isn't real, right?"

(He presses confirm.)


	2. unweave this shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm doing it for you, he wants to reply. He even types it out, then deletes, then types it out again, finger hovering over send.
> 
> He opens the window and leans against the glass, suddenly clammy.
> 
> He's not doing anything to him. Auston is just dramatic when he feels out of the loop, and sure, this is big news , but it doesn't warrant - whatever the fuck this is.
> 
> He switches his phone off.

Auston suggests going out to dinner one night and Mitch can't say no, too caught on how he almost looks pleading.

When they sit down, the first words he says are _what's been wrong with you lately_?

Mitch's elbow slips off the table in shock, sloshing his water down his shirt. There's an awkward pause as a nice waitress comes along with napkins to help him.

"What do you mean?"

_Play it cool,_ he thinks. _Not long until you'll no longer have to stick a giant patch on your ribs every day._

"I don't know, you've been - _distant_. It's weird coming from you."

Mitch can feel his heart beating faster, not in a nice way, either. Maybe this is how it happens, where he slips up. Blows it all.

"It's nothing." He says, forcing himself to look relaxed. "Just game stress, yknow?"

Auston's mouth twists.

"We're literally on a streak."

"It's still stressful. What if I can't keep this up or - or I get injured or - I don't know man. It just. Gets to me."

Auston frowns.

"I didn't mean-" He sighs, and reaches to squeeze his arm, and Mitch flinches.

"I meant that."

Mitch can feel a sinking sensation all through his body. He's completely tongue tied.

"I don't understand." He says evenly. Aiming for evenly. He's not sure it works.

"Come on, you're like - known for being all over everyone, and I can't tell if you're being this - withdrawn with everyone or it's just me."

_Okay. This is okay._ He can work it out.

"It's not just you -"

"Promise?" 

He slips his hand into Mitch's and squeezes.

God. _God_, he sounds too vulnerable, just for a second, and Mitch is too tempted to just let it all out.

"I promise." He murmurs instead, fighting the bit of him that wants to hold onto his hand until their food arrives.

Things go pretty much back to normal then. Auston talks about his family, and how cold it is in Toronto, and his mom's upcoming visit. It feels good, like he's been away and he's getting filled in on all the important stuff he's missed.

Then, when they're getting the bill, Auston drops a bombshell, casual as anything.

"Oh, by the way, I uh. I think my mark's coming through."

Mitch feels his chest constrict so hard it feels like heartburn. His ears ring.

"Oh - that's. So _good_. Congratulations!" He says, praying that Auston can't tell this is his media voice and tacked on smile.

It's rude to ask outright what it is, he knows full well but _god_, the temptation wins out.

"Do you have any idea who it's for?"

He _thinks_ Auston's face falls a little then, like Mitch said the wrong thing, but it's only there for a split second. Maybe it wasn't there at all. He's looking down and his eyelashes are smudgy and there's a faint blush high on his cheeks. Mitch wants to kiss it.

"I've some idea. Just gotta work out how to tell them." He murmurs, and Mitch definitely doesn't feel his heart cracking.

They ask for the bill, and when they part ways he leans into the hug Auston gives him, even if it does make him get a lump in his throat.

-

The cacti is in full colour now, and the sky above it has 18 stars. It's no bigger than a credit card in size, but it holds so much more that it's a physical weight. Mitch looks at it in the mirror and covers it with his hand, trying to imagine what it'll look like gone.

-

It's three days to the appointment and Mitch wakes up in the middle of the night in Auston's guest bedroom.

It doesn't feel right, sleeping alone when he stops over. He's gotten used to waking up in Auston's arms or at least within touching distance and he's feeling the chill more because it's still pretty freezing out and -

He's taken so much that wasn't his so often that he now _expects_ it, he realises coldly. He got so used to having Auston's affection that he's whining to himself because it isn't on tap anymore. That's all this is. It's _sulking_. The soulmark is a mistake and he'll get over it and in a few months he'll look back of this and know he made the right choice.

He feels his eyes prickle.

He's scared, but he's not got another option. He doesn't want to lose Auston, and he doesn't ever want him to know.

It's a very logical - if uncomfortable - decision.

He keeps remembering the old lady on the talkshow, saying she never got another soulmark after she got hers removed. They'd even shown the 1950s commercial for the service - before it, a girl was heartbroken that her first love had cheated at college. After, she was a pristine housewife with 2.5 kids, having gotten a more "proper" mark.

Then it talked about the mysterious side affects and some scandal over them that was leaked to the public by journalists in the 70s and - Mitch hadn't been able to watch past that. Sick to his stomach.

He gets up and wanders to Auston's room, because he can't help himself and his chest feels tight and - _huh_. He's still got the lamp on, surrounded by a couple of books, remote still clutched in his hand, sound asleep. It's late enough that the TV is just playing infomercials now. He turns it off.

He's about to chirp him and gently wake him up when he sees what they are. Fucking - books on soulmarks and the history behind them and all the rituals. Fuck.

He gingerly picks one up, looking at the page it's opened to and - _oh_. It's all about sealing the deal with your soulmate. Officially bonding with them. _Right_.

Gently, he sets all the stuff aside and pulls the blanket over him.

"I'm -" He murmurs, then stops. He wants to say sorry, or confess or something, but it won't come out. After a few minutes of being frozen in place, staring, he lets himself bend to press a single kiss to his hair, eyes screwed up tight.

Auston snores on, oblivious, and Mitch turns off the lamp.

-

The day before, Mitch knows he's being clingy. He knows he's just using hanging out with Auston as an excuse to touch him as much as possible. He feels ill with nerves.

To his credit, Auston takes it in his stride. He doesn't shove him off, at least. Doesn't comment on it.

The painful truth is -

The truth is that he doesn't _want_ to get rid of it. He's scared. He doesn't _want_ to end up fucked up and half unbonded. doesn't _want_ to let go. He wants to confess. It's on the tip of his tongue constantly.

Yet.

He knows that it's stupid. He knows it'd be bad for him and the team both.

He keeps his mouth shut until it's time to go. Auston walks him to the door, because apparently Mitch gets no peace from how nice a person his unfortunate soulmate is. Soon to be ex soulmate. He hangs on, again, when Auston hugs him goodbye. He needs to let go before he gets clingy and teary and shit.

He really has to bite his tongue when Auston's looking at him softly as he says he'll pick him up tomorrow, same time as usual, because by that point it'll be _gone_, nothing to worry about anymore.

"Yeah, thanks. Goodnight."

-

He doesn't nap at all. He can't seem to nod off without being needled by anxiety the second he enters deep sleep and twitching awake again. Stupid fucking mark.

He yanks his shirt off to look at it. Cacti and desert, yeah, he gets it. Arizona. How corny. It isn't even what he'd get were it a tattoo. It's a good job, really, that he hates it. If he was attached to it and liked it that'd be a whole new layer of bullshit. It'd be stupid to feel any sense of affection towards the mark anyway, not when he knows Auston doesn't have a matching one.

Mitch reaches for the stupid pamphlet again. It's far too _cheery_ to say it's about removing a bond from your brain. Taking away a connection to a soulmate shouldn't be accompanied by pictures of smiling people in the fancy little headsets they use, and quotes from patients detailing how _quick_ it was, how _painless_.

"Booking my appointment was easy and it was over before my lunch break even ended!" Says one, with a photo of a smiley woman in a bright floral dress.

Another paragraph details the method too clinically, and it makes his stomach churn. _The latest technology, super fast, easy._

That's gonna be him in three hours. That's gonna be him getting it taken away and then he won't have to worry about any of this anymore and he'll stop wanting what he can't have.

He digs his fingers into the quilt, breathing too quickly, chest tight. It's for the best, he knows that, so why is it so hard not to be _whiny_?

He keeps thinking about when he'd touched Auston earlier and felt something under his ribs go tight. Will it feel different, after? Maybe he'll still have the ache, but knowing there's zero possibility at all will make it fade.

Mitch presses his lips together to stifle some stupid noise. He doesn't that. He doesn't want it removed at all, but surely that's preferable to being so on edge all the time?

His exhaustion catches up with him shortly after that, and he's thankful for it.

-

He orders a taxi because he doesn't trust himself to drive with his shaky, clammy hands and the on-off panicking. He's thankful when the driver doesn't make small talk.

He doesn't want to do this, is the thing. He knows that. But not doing something won't suddenly make everything else okay. If he keeps it, it's a ticking time bomb until Auston sees and works it out. His head is going in circles, everything repeating.

Bad for the team. Bad for their friendship.

Bad for everyone.

He imagines how badly it'd go to strengthen his resolve. Auston wouldn't be _mean_, he's fairly certain. Odds are he'd be fairly polite, but - that's the thing. He'd just be polite. Anything beyond that would be constantly subject to Auston trying not to give Mitch the wrong impression, as though if he's too nice Mitch will get more marks, more attached.

There's certainly be no more physical affection. Yeah Auston, snuggle up with me, your best friend who was _stupid enough_ to read -

To read Auston letting him be close, leaning into it even, as Auston loving him.

Fuck, god. It's hard to even think it.

It's a good 40 minute ride away, so he's plenty of time to get himself in order.

In spite of all the logic and reasoning, it still feels nails down a chalkboard wrong. Something deep in his chest hammering _bad bad bad_ with the idea of having it taken away. The idea of the little node with the needle sticking out of it getting pushed carefully into his temple, putting the headset on, the static sound drowned out by his choice of ambient noise.

It's _petrifying_.

He looks at Auston's last text.

"You okay earlier? You looked pretty beat." _Thinking emoji, sad emoji._

Then, coming through suddenly:

"Mitch, you left your coat. What the fuck do youha ve an appointment at that clinic for"

His chest goes tight so quickly it feels like someone's stepping on his breastbone. He rereads it, spelling mistakes and all.

The appointment card. The appointment card in the jacket he left behind.

He stamps out the idea that Matts is so shocked because he has a similar mark, because he wants -

It's not like that. It's been months and he still keeps getting ideas every time Auston is nice to him, or affectionate. Even now, he's analysing a fucking text for all it's worth.

_Snap out of it_, he tells himself. Some people just have reservations about the process, or feel it's messing too much with nature. That's all.

_Just need to get something sorted :)_ He replies, like it's as simple a matter as getting a flu jab or check up at the doctors.

_Wait you can't_

Then, before he can respond;

_Don't go yet._

Mitch screws his eyes shut.

This is the right thing to do. He's sure of it. Sometimes people have to do things they don't like, and that's life. When it's gone he'll be able to actually move on.

_I'll be back in time for you to pick me up dw_

Beep.

_I'll meet you there._

Mitch's heart races.

_Don't do that. Just go back to sleep._

_Beep_ _. _

_How the fuck should I do that?_

Mitch sniffles.

_It's nothing big_

Then_;_

_People only go there for one reason what that fuck_

Mitch squeezes his eyes shut. He thought he was all cried out.

_It's okay_

Beep_._

_Mitch it's not fucking okay why are you doing this to me_

_I'm doing it for you,_ he wants to reply. He even types it out, then deletes, then types it out again, finger hovering over send.

He opens the window and leans against the glass, suddenly clammy.

He's not doing anything to him. Auston is just dramatic when he feels out of the loop, and sure, this is big news , but it doesn't warrant - whatever the fuck this is.

He switches his phone off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out this is 3 chapters not 2, so buckle up buddy!! Also thank you for reading. I hope I didn't make this too melodramatic. I wanted more emphasis on Mitch internalising stuff, and how little shows on the surface. Let me know what you think, and I'd never object to kudos, wink wink ;)


	3. white noise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eventually, after what seems like hours, the taxi pulls up to the barrier, and Mitch shows his facility appointment email to get through. He's got 11 texts and 9 missed calls. He doesn't look to see who they're from. He knows already really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is just build up that didn't fit in the final chapter, but...brace yourselves!

Mitch can feel his phone buzzing in his pocket. He can't even bear to get it out to switch it to silent, because that would mean looking at it. He could try do it blind but his head is so full of panic that even that ends up too difficult. Fuck everything, frankly. If he'd never gotten so overly attatched in the first place, this wouldn't be happening.

He tries to focus on the view from the window. Snow, late on, blanketing everything, making the traffic sound like white noise with how the wheels plough through the slush. If he'd have thought this through, he'd have maybe done it when it wasn't the season, enough time that there'd be a clean break over the summer.

Fucking hell, even trying purposefully not to think of it makes him think of what he's about to do.

He takes a deep breath again, focusing, when a sharp pain that makes him grit his teeth so hard they squeak lances through him. It feels like someone is trying to pry the plates of his skull apart. He must make some noise because the taxi driver peers at him in concern.

"You okay?" He asks, and Mitch pants and nods, because it isn't abating.

"Migraine, get them a lot." He replies. The driver doesn't look convinced, but turns back around uneasily. He isn't prone to migraines at all, and this guy know his destination, so why would he be convinced?

Mitch digs his nails into the seat harder. Even that reminds him of how Auston did that one time when they hit turbulence during a flight, then grabbed his hand. He'd looked apologetic, and Mitch had wanted to go "_no, don't worry, it's fine. If anything, do it more."_

He hadn't, _obviously_. But he'd wanted to. _Fuck_.

-

Last year, Auston had flown back from Arizona early, turning up on his doorstep at 10pm.

"_You_." He'd said dumbly. He was in his pyjama pants and a hoodie that they definitely had joint custody of.

"Yeah, me." Auston replied, deadpan, and Mitch stepped aside to let him in. Him and his 4 LV pieces of luggage.

"You got enough clothes there, bud?"

"Fuck you." He said easily, shoving Mitch's shoulder. As he went past, head ducked to smile, it felt like someone was very lightly tracing the mark with their fingertip. The way it tingled made him give a full-body shudder.

He was in so deep.   
  
-

They end up in traffic for 15 minutes and Mitch wants to rip his hair out. He probably does a little, because his hand is fisted in it from the pain. It's useless, but he'd though maybe if he had some other pain to distract him, maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

It was, and all he'd done was make his scalp hurt too.

-

"Eat! Auston, stop taking all the peppers, you know Mitch likes them." Ema had groused, and Mitch couldn't stop the shit-eating grin it made him do.

"Yeah _Auston_, stop eating all the peppers."

It had earnt him a scowl, and Mitch maintained eye contact as he picked a few strips directly off of Auston's plate.

"Mama..." He'd whined, and Mitch had cackled and eaten them with particular gross enthusiasm, and that pretty much set the tone for his entire summer visit to Arizona.

It'd only been when he got back that it hit him. That would be what it'd be like to actually be a part of Auston's family. No joking about it, to genuinely be there with them. To have Auston like he wants him, to sleep curled around him, warm and proper. Not spring apart from him like he was embarrassed, the time he'd actually slept with Auston like that. He'd woken first and laid stock still, savouring it, getting all teary because he was a dumbass. Then he'd felt Auston stiffen up, freeze, then practically scramble away.

So he'd had an answer there and then. It shouldn't have taken him this long.

-

Eventually, after what seems like hours, the taxi pulls up to the barrier, and Mitch shows his appointment email to get through. He's got 11 texts and 9 missed calls. He doesn't look to see who they're from. He knows already really.

When he climbs out the car, he shoves the phone to the bottom of his rucksack and tries to ignore how walking to the entrance feels like dragging his feet through syrup. To say it's so early, there's a fair amount of cars, and he nearly slips on a patch of ice onto the bonnet of a ridiculously expensive model. He's just gotta focus on how in a half hour it'll be done. He can do that. He's doing the right thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good g-d i never expected y'all to like this quite as much as you seem to, but I'm so happy y'all do!
> 
> Next and final chapter will be next week, but for now, please follow me on tumblr @ klenovvy if you are so inclined. I am currently accepting prompts, ranting, death threats...anything.
> 
> Thank you for reading!!


	4. one six three four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thing is, Mitch thinks, is that he doesn't seem like he's clocked why Mitch is getting it removed, doesn't know that he's got an errant mark. He just opposes the emotional fuckery of it all.
> 
> Either that, or he's biding his time to really hit Mitch with it.
> 
> He's not cruel, so it'd be out of character for him, but for this big of an upheaval...Mitch wouldn't blame him if he was here to say their entire friendship is done. That he tried and he can't overlook it. That it makes him feel too awkward.
> 
> He tears up.
> 
> Please don't let it be that, he thinks.

Any effort Mitch made to be incognito and sneaky and super stealthy gets blown apart the second he steps into the foyer. Not because he's spotted by a fan, or has lost his access code, but because Auston is stood there, shivering and hopping from foot to foot.

"_Oh_." Is all he can muster up.

They both stare access to each other.

"Hi." Auston says.

This is possibly the most awkward he has looked in his life.

"Uh, Cold?"

Auston snorts reflexively. He's always cold, and Mitch has chirped him enough for it that he usually rolls his eyes and spouts some shit about how temperature tolerance goes hand in hand with where you were raised. Also there's a genetic component and also blah blah blah, something about how Mitch should shut up.

"Fuck you. When am I not?"

Fair. Even in summer, unless there's a heatwave, Auston boasts that the weather in Arizona is nicer.

"_If the weather down there is so nice, take me to prove it_." He'd said last year, and Auston had, and it had been a clusterfuck of heartbreak. Fuck him, fuck that.

It's sobering.

The silence stretches. There's distant sounds from within the building, a radio playing from the waiting room, a coffee machine, chatter. The place is done up like a fucking first class lounge and something about it makes him shudder, like a hangnail scraping across his skin.

Auston opens his mouth to say something, and he has to like, beat him to it. He doesn't understand, but the only conclusion that makes sense is that Auston had his suspicions and wanted to make sure he was right before it happened. To see and to gauge how distant he should be.

"So, uh. How did you get here this fast?" He asks quickly.

It'll give him some time to make up some answers in his head, to how Auston is probably going to grill him. In all fairness, he does look embarrassed, so maybe he'll keep them minimal.

"I -. I didn't want to give you a chance to go in before I got here, and I figured that if you knew that's what'd happen, you'd reschedule and not tell me, I mean, not that you fucking told me anyway."

His voice rises sharply at the end, and Mitch bites his tongue, sensing he isn't done.

"-so I was already half way here when I texted."

Mitch goes cold. He's know for longer than he let on.

The door beeps open suddenly behind them, and a nurse holding squirming baby peers out at them, suspicious, but using her customer service voice.

"Are you okay? Did you get lost?" She asks, smiling blandly.

Mitch's stomach churns looking at the kid. It's one thing to know that they had a place parents going in for a procedure could leave their children whilst it happens, but somehow it feels wrong. He can't articulate it. This shouldn't be fucking normalised, he thinks. _You shouldn't be here._

"Oh, we're good. Just waiting until the snow lessens to, uh. Go for a smoke before my appointment?" Auston chances. It's a pretty good lie, even though when they occasionally smoke up together they both choke each and every time.

The nurse looks relieved that she doesn't have to move on loiterers, and readjusts the baby on he hip.

"Great, when you need to come in, scan the qr code on your letter against the reader, then show your ID and rest of the paperwork to security."

"Got it, thanks." Mitch says, then she's gone again, sounds muffling once more when the doors slide shut.

"Quick thinking." He says, and Auston smiles thinly.

"Thanks."

"So -"

"You can't do this." Auston blurts, and the sick feeling comes back twice as bad.

"You don't even know why I'm here." Mitch mutters.

Auston raises one unimpressed eyebrow at him.

"Don't treat me like I'm fucking stupid." He spits, and Mitch flinches. "Sorry - just. You can't think this is good, surely? You can't think - like, whoever it is can't be so fucking _unbearable_, right?"

Mitch wants to scream or cry or slump against the wall. He just wants it all to be over. _Needs_ it to be.

"I'm sorry." It feels like it's all he's saying.

Auston pulls at his own hair.

"That answers nothing."

"I'm sorry, but why the fuck is this your business?"

Auston bristles.

"Because I'm trying to make you rethink this when it could be the worst mistake of your life?"

"Or the _best_." Mitch says, sounding just as childish and dumb as he feels.

"Fuck, Mitch, come on. You know the stories, how bad things can go wrong. I looked it up. There's a two to twelve percent chance of complications."

"Yeah, stories, maybe that's all they are. Maybe you're just blowing things o-"

"If you say out of proportion I swear to god -"

"I wasn't going t- okay, so I was, but. I mean, that means they mostly go right, _right_?"

Auston makes a frustrated sound. How hard he's shivering makes Mitch want to unzip his coat and try and wrap it around them both. Press to his front and have him slip his arms around Mitch's waist, draw him in. _Fuck_. His lip wobbles dangerously.

"Mostly go - okay, so say you take a dirty hit, and you end up needing knee surgery. There's a two to twelve percent chance that they'll operate on the wrong knee. So not only do they not treat the injury, they fuck over your healthy leg."

"Did that take you the entire drive to come up with?" He asks, lamely.

"Mitch, stop trying to joke about this, I'm deadly serious. Also I didn't drive, I got a taxi. I've had plenty of time to think about this."

The thing is, Mitch thinks, is that he doesn't seem like he's clocked _why_ Mitch is getting it removed, doesn't know that he's got an errant mark. He just opposes the emotional fuckery of it all.

Either that, or he's biding his time to really hit Mitch with it.

He's not _cruel_, so it'd be out of character for him, but for this big of an upheaval...Mitch wouldn't blame him if he was here to say their entire friendship is done. That he tried and he can't overlook it. That it makes him feel too awkward.

He tears up.

_Please don't let it be that,_ he thinks.

"So hit me with it so I can get this over with," Mitch grits out, looking down to hide how he's blinking rapidly so that he doesn't cry for real.

"Mitch, fuck. Just, think about it. How do you know it's a mistake, come on. Tell me, _please_."

And _fuck_, as if he can refuse when Auston sounds so genuinely distressed.

He can wrap this up in fifteen and still make his appointment, he figures.

"Because I know that the person doesn't have a mark for me."

"How would you know? It could be covered, just like yours is."

"It isn't."

"Again, how do you know that?"

"I've seen - all of them -"

Mitch feels the blood drain from his face. Seen all of them, ergo seen them naked. Who does he see nude most often? His team. The two pieces of information aren't hard to link.

Auston nods, looking emboldened.

Mitch's stomach churns. He's nauseous.

"So this person, you've seen them naked enough times to know, right?"

Mitch feels himself start to cry before he can stop it.

"_Please_, Auston. Don't."

"Shut the fuck up. So, it wasn't your last hook up, even I know that. She got hers for that woman she knocked into at shoppers."

"It was sweet actually -" Mitch starts, and he doesn't even know why he's trying to cover for himself at this point. His cheeks are wet and he's still trying to act like he can turn this around.

"So that means they're on the team, probably. Which narrows it down."

"Please -"

"That means it could be _me_." He says, and Mitch notices little things about him in that stretched out few seconds before the absolute heartbreak sets in. His hair is a mess, flecked with water where the snow has melted. His coat is the tan one that they borrow off of each other so much that he's forgotten whose it even is. He's fiddling with his keys, nervous.

Three seconds of silence, _tick tick tick._

"And I think it _is_ me."

Mitch sobs.

"I'm _sorry_." He whispers, voice thick. _I'm going to fix this now,_ he thinks.

Auston reacts instantly, but not how he thought he would. He takes the two short steps separating them and curls his hand around Mitch's elbow, the other wrapping around him, hand against his shoulder.

"Hey, _hey_, Mitch, it's okay, it's - it's _okay_, I've got some explaining to do I guess, but it's okay -"

"It's not okay! You found out before I even fixed it!"

Auston squeezes him tight to his chest, and Mitch wishes this was in any other situation. That it was out of love, not pity.

He knows Auston is gonna say some shit about how it _won't change anything,_ and it'll probably fade _naturally_ when Auston falls in love and any ideas of a bond become futile. It's unfair. He shouldn't be kind whilst he's advocating for a slow death.

"It wouldn't be though, would it? It wouldn't fix anything."

His fingers clutch without meaning to. He's so fucking tired.

"It might."

"Why would it, when there's nothing to fix?" He pauses, and with his ear against Mitch's chest he feels how shaky his next intake of breath is. He braces himself. "Why would it, when I have one for you too?"

Mitch feels the thud of Auston's heart, steady, sure, then ground under his feet dip and collapse entirely.

-

The ride back to Auston's is uneventful. His ears ring, and he can't speak, and Auston's shaky fingers buzz where they're interlocked with his.

-

The door shuts behind them, and Mitch wishes he could lipread better. Everything sounds muffled.

"Can I see now, please?" Auston asks. Through three layers of fabric, his hand brushes the adhesive plastic that covers the mark, and Mitch stumbles, something heavy with meaning settling over him, making him feel braver than he should. Before he even puts an arm out to steady himself, Auston has caught him.

Mitch touches their foreheads together.

"Please." He says. He doesn't know for what he asks.

Auston leads them past the living room, up the stairs, into his room. It's a route they've taken in every state possible. Drunk with victory, with alcohol, happy, sad, tired. Everything at once fits into place, a puzzle solved, but Mitch doesn't want to look, not even a peek between his fingers. He doesn't trust himself, but he trusts Auston.

Auston, who's pushing Mitch's coat off his shoulders, whose fingers brush Mitch's aside when they're trembling too much to make a decent job of unbuttoning his stupid expensive designer cardigan. The kind of ugly only big bucks can afford.

He barely feels it drop behind him, and finally meets Auston's gaze.

He looks - scared, but certain. Fingers at the hem of Mitch's t-shirt, waiting. Always considerate, at heart. Sweet to him. Sweet _on_ him. _Fuck_.

Mitch nods, and this time when Auston steps closer, he brushes his cheek against Mitch's. It feels less like a shock than it should, more like his pulse is slower. Calm, matching Auston's, and anticipating all at once.

Then Auston's hands are trailing up his ribs, and Mitch holds his arms up as the garment issue dragged over his head.

He feels pleasantly warm, and distantly remembers Auston putting the central heating on as soon as they got in. Planning how to make him comfortable. God.

Maybe there have been little cues like that all along. Ones of love. The affection, the in-jokes, the shared clothes like Auston could share warmth with him even apart. _God_.

When Auston reaches for the cover, Mitch pushes his hand away.

"Let me." He says. His voice is rough with disuse.

Like ripping off a plaster. That had been the plan, the whole ethos to what he'd been going to do. Now it's literally what he's going to do.

So he does it quick. Lets it fall from his grasp after like it's poisonous. Everything stops for Auston's sharp inhale and - _oh_.

It's in full colour now. There's more of it.

Auston sinks to his knees, may from shock, maybe to see closer. Either way, he looks awed and moved and everything Mitch wouldn't let himself imagine.

A cacti plant under a starry sky. The number of stars probably mean something, but he'll work it out later. Flora coming up from the parched earth around it, life where it shouldn't even be concivable, all in full colour, vivid, even more so when Auston touches it.

Mitch knows he's crying but it's just - _relief_. Bone-deep surety. The terror of what he's doing been going to do can wait.

He lets himself look again, and Auston has his eyes screwed up tight, head against Mitch's belly. Mitch touches his shoulder.

"Can I see yours? Please, Auston, _please_ -"

Auston sniffles.

"Sure, baby, just -"

_Baby,_ like that doesn't lay waste to him.

He inclines his head, sweeping his bedhead aside, parting the strands from memory, like he knows just by touch, by familiarity where it is.

Mitch feels the breath get knocked out from him. Whatever cracks he felt within himself feel like they're filled in with gold.

-

Mitch doesn't know how it started. He thinks he stole one of Auston's gloves and was going to draw a dick on it, but hesitated at the last minute, only having maybe ten seconds until Auston came back, so he'd opted for for a smiley face.

He never knew it'd start anything.

Auston, naturally, felt the need to one up him the time after that. A winky face.

So Mitch amended his artwork for an evil one.

Auston did a heart eyed one with his number by it.

It was never supposed to be anything but an outlet of affection Mitch let himself have. A way to let Auston know that he was with him, even if he wasn't. A way of letting himself express his affection, but never too much. Always something that could be brushed off.

It's ironic, then, that the tiny fingerprint sized smiley behind Auston's ear, shrouded safely away under his hair, is permanent.

Mitch pulls the bedclothes tighter around them, and _breathes_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this has been a long time coming. So sorry for the delay, y'all. Lemme know what you think and thank you so much for reading :')))
> 
> Also, feel free to dump prompts on me via tumblr @ klenovvy!


	5. touchpaper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mitch strokes over the mark behind his ear, and it feels like something zapped them both, a warmth echoing through him, making him feel empty and frantic. But Auston slows him down, gets it, but doesn't let him rush, just like always. Balancing him out, tethered to his heart.
> 
> Whatever, he can be sappy and horny. He yanks at the back of Auston's shirt some more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It turns out that I cannot leave this thing alone, so I present to you the chapter that made me change the rating to explicit. I am a sap.

They fuck for the first time two weeks after Auston talked him down from the removal appointment, because it takes a while to relearn that he actually gets what he wants, _needs_ even. A few times he wakes up in a panic, and every time Auston sits up besides him, rubs between his shoulders. _It's okay, I'm here, I'm with you._ Mitch will shake, face pressed between his knees and eyes squeezed shut, trying to remember how to breathe. If it's real bad he has some meds for panic attacks, but he's not needed one since they got together. Yet. He might do, but that's a bridge he'll cross if he comes to it.

Mitch doesn't mean for it to happen. They've made out every time they have more than ten minutes to spare, and one time got interrupted from christening the supply closet at the rink, and given each other handies, but it isn't the same as like, _fucking_ fucking.

So they've done their usual routine, wake up, whose turn is it to make coffee, _no Mitch you slept in yesterday, go make it happen_, practice, shower, nap.

And the nap turns into making out, whatever, piece of cake, and then he's grinding in Auston's lap. It's all as _normal_, him and Auston enjoying the hazy feedback loop, the drag of everything magnified. Then Auston just comes out with it. _Can I fuck you?_

Maybe not all as normal as he once thought. He kisses Auston, desperation feeling like a creeping vine bursting into bloom, Auston's gaze brushing his skin like a touch. He exhales shakily, and he's brought out of zoning out by Auston nudging him.

"Okay, _cute,_ but that's not a really an answer." Auston snickers. He's horrible.

"Yes, _yes_, obviously, jesus _christ_. Do you know how many dreams I've had where you do that? Like, there's even a recurring one where we get home from a game we've won and you pick me up and slam me against the wall, real hard. Hard enough a picture falls off the wall like in a movie, and we don't even make it to be-"

Auston pounces, in as much as someone 200 lbs can pounce.

"Shut the fuck up" He says. "I've waited for so fucking long and you just, what? Say that? Run your mouth, That's just -"

Mitch bites him.

"Less talky more undressy." He says, confidence building the further he sticks his hand up the back of Auston's tee. He's so built and solid and Mitch wants his hands digging into his hips, pulling him back on his dick like he weighs nothing, whilst all he can do is bite his lip and let Auston use him just enough that it feels _good_.

  
"You're insane." Auston gripes, not meaning it.

Mitch strokes over the mark behind his ear, and it feels like something zapped them both, a warmth echoing through him, making him feel empty and frantic. But Auston slows him down, _gets_ it, but doesn't let him rush, just like always. Balancing him out, tethered to his heart.

Whatever, he can be sappy _and_ horny. He yanks at the back of Auston's shirt some more.

"Fuck, _okay_, I'm going as fast as I can."

Mitch flops back in bed, smiling. He can't stop fucking smiling. He wriggles out of his clothes, right down to his boxers, and sprawls out. He feels weirdly unselfconcious. He's not _usually_ self-conscious in bed, but everyone wants their first time with someone new to be good. He doesn't dwell on it.

He spreads his legs, and Auston climbs on top of him, eyes raking across his skin.

"Have you done this before?" He asks, and Mitch snickers.

"With a couple of solid hookups, yeah. Sorry you haven't got a cherry to pop."

"Ewww." Auston says, wrinkling his nose. "You're so _gross_ with the phrasing."

"Just being honest. I've fingered myself and imagined you a bunch of times. "It's never been as good though. Felt empty even when I was going hard, because it wouldn't get me like if you did it, so I kinda just want your dick in me,"

Auston blinks, but colour floods his cheeks, and the hand he has against Mitch's jaw moves so that his thumb can brush his cheekbone.

"Okay, baby. I got you."

Mitch shudders at the nickname. It feels good. He rolls over beneath Auston and gasps when it means his ass is level with Auston's dick.

He arches his back and makes a filthy, shivery grind happen. Any sense of shame can be dealt with later. Auston holds onto his hips, fingers digging in like he knew they would.

"Jesus, get _in_ me." He huffs, and Auston shoves his head into the pillows when he reaches over him to get the lube.

He slicks up his fingers as mitch watches over his shoulder as though entranced. His hands are so good and gorgeous. When he strokes them over his hole, petting, _almost_ enough, Mitch shakes.

"It's okay, I've got you," He says, and pushes one in all the way to the knuckle. Mitch yelps.

  
"Jesus fuck. Jesus, how does that feel so -"

Auston curls it, brushing that spot inside him the makes his limbs feel liquid. The feedback loop of sensation is making his entire body feel illuminated. So Auston's done this before too. _Huh_. He can't string a sentence together, but _huh_.

"That's it, you're good, let me -"

Mitch wants to protest being called _good_, but the thing with soulmates and soulmarks is that the other person knows you entirely, on a kinda visceral level. Knows that when Auston says Mitch is a _good boy _for something, or just _good_ on its own it makes him want to do it more, and his head swims.

Now is no exception. Auston is fingering him slow on purpose, and Mitch decides dignity is fake and pushes back on him, wanting _more, harder, now._   
  
"Please, more. _Please_." He gets out, and Auston kisses his throat.

"Sure, all you had to do was ask."

"Fuck, I _love_ you. I love you."

-

Mitch pushes his face into the pillow and sighs happily, lets the stuttering little moans get fucked out of him. It almost feels being stoned.

Auston sucks another mark between his shoulders, fucks gently back into him until his hipbones rest against Mitch's ass, and it's so overwhelming that he lifts his hips and squirms back against him.

"God -" Auston chokes, turning his head by the jaw to kiss him even more languidly than he's fucking him. "Baby, you feel so good." He curls his hands around Mitch's thighs, pulling them wider apart.

It shifts the angle, and Mitch whimpers.

"Mm - just - _fuck_, like that - there. Fuck -"

"Yeah?"

Auston reaches under him to stroke his dick and Mitch keens, shifting away and only succeeding in getting himself good. He sobs, because Auston is being so _lovely_ to him, and he just wants to be lovely right back.

"Not - I don't wanna come this fast, and - fuck, if you jerk me off I will, so - just, keep going please, I'm nearly - _please_, Auston -"

God, he's a mess, he knows it. He can feel his eyes prickle. He wants Auston to overwhelm him so bad, and something must bleed through, because that's when he feels him trace his fingers over Mitch's soulmark.

Mitch bites into his own hand so he doesn't scream. It's like heat is licking at him, amplifying everything but still with the soft, gauzy lightheaded feeling. He wants Auston to trace it and then keep going. Write on his skin something only Mitch can know, read through touch; a dumb heart with their initials, their numbers merged together, _mine_ written in Auston's shaky hand. His, his, his, from the very edges of his soul inwards, etched along every millimetre of his mark.

"L- let me hear you, oh jesus fuck, _close_ -" Auston says, right next to his ear, and Mitch shoots a hand back to dig into the meat of Auston's thigh.

"_Fuck_-" He whines.

"Are you okay?" Auston manages to ask, through all the overwhelming sensations and fucking hell, Mitch _adores_ him.

"Yeah, yes, just. Want you to - " He pauses, because the whine that escapes him involuntarily can't be held back, he's so close it hurts. The idea of Auston moving any further away from him than he already is is awful. He can barely string a thought together. "Want you to come inside me, please? Please?"

Auston's nails dig into his thighs tightly, and he gasps, and Mitch feels his heart pounding against his back, feels his own heart try and match it. He tucks his face into the crook of his arm and fumbles to hold on to Auston's hand.

Mitch lets go.

-

He finally comes around sufficiently from his orgasm induced coma to stumble to the shower a half hour later, turning it up high and prodding at Auston until he groans.

"You have to join me." Mitch whines. "I might fall and die."

"You'll be fine." Auston says, even though he's all gross and has kicked the sheet off. "I'm asleep."

Mitch knows that he is very much not asleep.

He flicks him on the nose.

"What the _fuck_, go shower and leave me alone."

Mitch rolls his eyes and scritches his fingers against the back of his neck, little one just catching the mark, and Auston jumps, finally having the grace to open a single eye and look at him.

"You're gonna keep going until I get up, aren't you." He says, and it isn't really a question.

Mitch grins at him.

-

"How is your hair so tangled? It's short." Auston grumbles, slapping the bottle of shower gel away from Mitch's hands when he makes to pour it on his head. "You have shampoo especially to wash your hair with, you animal."

"It's the same." Mitch nearly purrs, distracted and content having his hair pet, and Auston sighs.

"Sorry for having _standards_."

"I dunno man, having standards got you all up in this," He gestures at himself "so y'know, maybe it's a good thing after all."

Auston can't really argue with that. It's totally airtight. He does rinse Mitch's hair with a little too much vigour, though.

-

Mitch lays awake long after Auston has arranged them suitably cuddled up and conked out. His deep breaths are kinda tickling the back of Mitch's neck and he's pretty sure that his leg is gonna go numb from how it's positioned, but he can't bring himself to care.

He threads his fingers between Auston's and takes in all the little details, propped up on one elbow. The way the bedding Auston dutifully changed is the cosy winter kind. Dusk drawing in early and casting thin beams of buttery light against the wall. How Auston's shoulder is a complete mess of hickies, to the extent that Mitch knows he'll bitch about later, and -

It's strange and new and scary, to get this, them, after uselessly pining for so long. Things have gone off without and hitch and it's difficult to wrap his head around, even knowing that it's gonna take a while to unlearn being so afraid.

(_"What if I'm always like this, so - cowardly and stupid and -"_  
_"Frightened?" Auston finishes for him._  
_"Yeah." Mitch had said tersely, barely breathing. "It'll get tiring and you'll-"_  
_"I'll what?"_  
_"Leave? I don't know, that's - that's what makes me worry the most."_  
_"I won't." Auston says easily, and he doesn't complain even when the way mitch rests their foreheads together smudges his glasses. "It's no bother, when it's you."_  
_"You don't know that."_  
_"I know you, don't I?"_)

It'll go away with time, he knows it will. Unlike their marks, it'll fade.

Mitch rolls over so that he's facing Auston and pushes his hair back. When his eyelids feel too heavy to keep open, he lays his hand so that his thumb is pressed over Auston's mark, and lets himself rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is actually the end now. Please let me know what you thought!
> 
> As always, I'm on tumblr @klenovvy

**Author's Note:**

> This has been in my drafts for so so long I can't even remember when I started it. What can I say. If anyone on the leafs are soulmates, it's these two dweebuses. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, lemme know what you think <3


End file.
